


Please Just (Go) Stay

by fauxtales



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Self-Harm, The sex is honestly a background for the emotional turmoil, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, angsty sex, is more accurate actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29867328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxtales/pseuds/fauxtales
Summary: “Please just stay with me. For one moment at least.”It’s not the words Axel intends to say. He intends to bite, to say something just as scathing as Saïx, something to wound. He wants Saïx to hurt, even if he knows that is a technically fruitless endeavor. Not that it matters now.
Relationships: Axel/Saïx (Kingdom Hearts)
Kudos: 7





	Please Just (Go) Stay

“Please just stay with me. For one moment at least.”

It’s not the words Axel intends to say. He intends to bite, to say something just as scathing as Saïx, something to wound. He wants Saïx to hurt, even if he knows that is a technically fruitless endeavor. Not that it matters now.

The words tumble from his lips before he can stop them and now he’s standing in the bedroom, feeling more vulnerable than he ever has with Saïx, and at a complete loss as to how to recover.

Saïx pauses. His hand hovers near the door, his earlier intent to leave as fast as possible apparently stalled out. Axel can’t see his face, can’t imagine what sort of expression he would find there, but he can hope. Hope… for what? Does he really even want Saïx to stay? Up until he opened his mouth, he knew with a certainty that he didn’t; they’ve been arguing for the past hour, and Axel was sick of it. Is sick of it. He doesn’t want to fight anymore and he thought he didn’t want to see Saïx either.

Then he asked Saïx to stay and now he’s not so sure.

“I thought you wanted me to go?” Saïx’s quiet voice cuts through the silence. Axel has forgotten how to breathe.

“I do.”

“But…?”

Axel swallows hard. Blinks back tears. “But I also want you to stay.”

The sigh that echoes around the white walls of Axel’s room is deep and pained. As if Saïx understands the meaning behind Axel’s words better than Axel himself does. “You can’t have it both ways, Axel.”

“I know.”

This is a dance they’ve done for so long now. It feels like a small eternity passes between them, stretching on as Axel’s mind spins with memories of all the other times they’ve stood like this. They are too tangled in each other, too tightly connected to truly give the other up, yet with the way they keep drifting apart, it just hurts more and more to be together. They have appearances to keep up in public, have to be careful even behind most closed doors, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

Saïx insists that it’s not real hurt; they’re just remembering what it means to hurt. Axel feels like he’s been stabbed in the chest anyway.

Slowly, Saïx turns back around. He stares at Axel, expression unreadable and golden eyes unnerving. Axel stares back, unsure of his own expression and sure that Saïx can see into him with more clarity than could ever be comfortable. Distantly, Axel thinks that it should probably feel violating, the way Saïx looks at him sometimes. Searching and possessive and hungry in a way Axel doesn’t understand. It doesn’t.

When Saïx steps back into the room, it is with intention. Axel finds himself frozen to the spot, unable to move or look away as Saïx crosses the room in steady, sure strides. Axel may be the taller of the two, but Saïx’s shoulders have gotten broad and he still manages to make Axel feel so very small.

Axel feels even smaller when Saïx reaches up to take Axel’s face in his hands and pulls. He tugs Axel down into a kiss that is just as searching and possessive and hungry as Saïx’s gaze and Axel shudders all over. He’s not sure if it’s a good feeling, this passion that passes between them, that passes as something other than the nothing they are made of, but he clings to it anyway. Clings to Saïx. His hands find the fabric of Saïx’s dark coat and grip tightly, pulling Saïx in closer; a needless gesture, as Saïx is already moving, pressing Axel back toward the bed with all the confidence of someone who has done this exact dance hundreds of times. Because he has. They both have.

The whimper that leaves Axel’s throat when the backs of his knees hit the bed is pathetic. The answering growl that Saïx presses into Axel’s neck is hot. Axel lets Saïx press him back more and they topple onto the bed in a way that a teenaged Lea always thought must be so fun and sexy, and a now-experienced Axel knows is more messy than anything. Saïx has to let Axel go enough to actually get them onto the bed and in a semi-comfortable position, and Axel finds his teeth clacking together from the impact of falling back. They’ve done this so much that it doesn’t take long anymore to get situated from there, but that also means it’s lost any sort of fun it might have had, in the beginning. Nervous giggles and embarrassed expressions replaced by hurried motion as Axel pulls pillows closer to get comfortable and a cold calculation as Saïx strips Axel of his boots.

Once upon a time, Axel fantasized about Saïx pressing him into his bed and having his way with him. The anger that was always so close under the surface seemed exciting and sexy then, a dangerous line that Axel wanted so desperately to toe. Once upon a time, that anger was never directed at Axel in sincerity, was never a threat.

Once upon a time, they didn’t let their nonexistent emotions get the better of them.

Now, Axel fumbles at Saïx’s zipper and wonders if either of them really get enough out of this for it to be worth it. Those long, heavy coats out of the way, Saïx is pressing Axel into the bed, but it’s not nearly as exciting as Axel used to imagine it being. He clings tightly to Saïx anyway, sharp nails digging into those broad shoulders as Saïx kisses and bites a trail down to Axel’s collarbone. Axel whimpers and moans and presses up against his distant lover and wonders when this all started feeling so hollow. Desperate, but in an empty sort of way. Saïx slips a hand under the waistband of Axel’s pants and he stops thinking altogether.

Looking back, Axel isn’t sure what they could have done to avoid this. Oh, there are plenty of things - not breaking into the castle at Radiant Garden, for a start - but none of them were decisions that Axel can think to change. He wouldn’t have chosen differently, even if he knew exactly what he was getting into, which he didn’t. He knows this. He knows this because he’ll choose Saïx every time. And choosing Saïx is what got him here.

When they were teenagers, Lea used to play with fire. Back before he had magic within him, back before the flames took their place in his veins, Lea carried a lighter that saw more use than his nonexistent smoking habit called for. He would burn whatever he could find: bits of foliage, playing cards, his clothes. Himself. Isa hated it when he burned himself, said it was self harm and he should really talk to someone about it. Lea waved him off, made excuses. To Isa and to himself. It was just harmless fun. He just wanted to see how long he could take it. The point wasn’t the pain, it was the heat.

Lea started smoking and burned his lungs instead. He got into the habit of putting out cigarettes on his skin and wondered how long the scars would stay.

Saïx presses lube slick fingers into him and Axel gasps. His entire body tenses at the intrusion, a reaction that he would have thought he was over by now, yet here he is. Saïx huffs in pain as Axel’s nails dig into him, but he doesn’t stop. He presses deeper, silently asking - ordering? - Axel to relax, and he does. He does his best, anyway. It still takes long minutes of Saïx’s strangely impatient patience before Axel lets out a sigh and loosens his deathgrip on Saïx’s shoulders. It feels good, all of it feels good, but Axel finds himself gasping pain regardless, even as he asks for more.

Axel has found that he can’t burn anymore, not properly. This is the closest he’ll ever get.

It’s not fair, using sex like this. To either of them. But Axel can’t find it in himself to feel bad about it; probably isn’t capable, if Xemnas is truly to be believed. Then again, they’re both perfectly aware of how this arrangement works, what each of them get out of it. It’s a mutual destruction, a way to blow off steam even if Axel just admitted that he wants Saïx to go away. He wants him as close as he can possibly get, too. So Saïx gets closer.

Something like this, it must feel amazing for people with hearts. For people who can feel a connection so fully, so completely. Axel likes to imagine what it must feel like, to have another person inside you in a way that feels like two pieces slotting together perfectly. He’s sure he doesn’t have it quite right. For all the trouble his overactive imagination can get him into, it apparently cannot conjure the image of a healthy relationship.

When Axel comes, it feels like breaking. A shudder runs through him, a sensation that is more powerful than pleasant, and Axel vaguely wonders if Saïx’s skin breaking under his nails hurts as much as the sob that is ripped from his chest. Saïx doesn’t last much longer, though the intervening minutes of movement have Axel overstimulated and uncomfortable. He buries his face in Saïx’s shoulder and wills himself to keep still as Saïx finishes, gasping for air and wishing that this could be a better moment. Wishing that things were different.

Saïx collapses on top of him, boneless and spent. Axel continues to cling, not yet ready to give up the contact that so resembles comfort. He closes his eyes and listens to Saïx’s breathing and for a moment, he can pretend they’re okay. He can pretend that Saïx’s touch doesn’t make his skin crawl and Saïx’s voice doesn’t cut through him like knives and Saïx’s eyes aren’t all wrong. The sound of Saïx’s breath leveling out lulls Axel into a sort of daze and it’s all he can do to keep his tears silent.

When did Saïx become such a villain in his mind?

The emptiness that fills him when Saïx pulls away is almost as painful as the intrusion of Saïx being close. Axel lets him go easily enough; trying to cling any longer than Saïx allows just ends with them both feeling worse than before. So does sex, but they ignore that one. The momentary reprieve is enough for them to justify it, apparently. Axel doesn’t really know if that’s true anymore, but he goes along with it anyway. What would be the point in denying it?

The dark of the room does little to hide the pale of Saïx’s skin. Axel watches as he dresses, pulling his now dirty sheets around himself in some semblance of comfort. Even after all this time, Axel still thinks that Saïx is the most gorgeous person he has ever met. The strength that has developed over the years in those shoulders, born of constant training with a claymore, has only added to Saïx’s beauty. Axel imagines being carried around by those strong arms, being held gently by the very strength that could tear a person apart. Even the dark of their coats doesn’t diminish the appearance of strength, instead hugging Saïx’s form pleasingly.

The light of a distant moon plays on Saïx’s hair, turning it nearly silver, and Axel closes his eyes.

Axel is only aware of Saïx leaving by the quiet swish of his coat against the floor and the feeling of a dark corridor opening and closing on the other side of the room. It’s a long time before Axel bothers to move, instead just staying where he is, curled up in his bed. Alone. Exactly what he wanted.

Getting up to get clean takes more effort than it probably should. Axel groans when he first moves, blinking his eyes open to the empty room around him and taking a deep breath. He’s never as grateful for the personal bathrooms they each have attached to their rooms than he is after encounters like this. Hobbling uncomfortably down the hall to get to a bathroom would be hell.

Of course, Axel already looks like he’s seen hell. He stares at himself in the bathroom mirror and frowns. Tear-streaked face. Bags under his eyes to rival the Darkness. Hair even messier than usual, flattened some against the back of his head and tangled beyond hope. He scans down the rest of his body and doesn’t even bother to take inventory of all the bruises. Most aren’t from tonight - he fights for a living, he’s bound to be covered in bruises - but the fresh ones on his thigh and hip are particularly sore. Axel pokes at one. Winces. Sighs.

He should take a shower. No, a bath; a long soak would do his muscles good. Instead, he just stands in front of his mirror and watches Saïx’s cum slowly slide down his leg and wonders, yet again, how he got here.

He’s glad Saïx is gone. He wishes Saïx would come back.

You can’t have it both ways, Axel.

Axel grimaces and goes to start the bath. Maybe the sound of rushing water will be enough to get Saïx out of his head. Probably not. He can try anyway. He can wish.

Even if he knows it won’t come true.


End file.
